


The Moon

by ZodiacRiver



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Purple Prose, Slow Dancing, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 17:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15635736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZodiacRiver/pseuds/ZodiacRiver
Summary: A monlight-embraced night spent gazing at the stars in each other's eyes.





	The Moon

Tsukishima likes the moon. He doesn’t admit it, but it’s the truth. Often times, when he’s back from a tiring evening practice, he would look up and see it there. The moon. Its bright, silver form breathing in the navy sky and its light seem as if they diffuse; spreading, spreading around and he thinks that the entire sky is going to be filled with soft white hue. It’s spectacular. It calms his heart down for an inexplicable reason, though whatever it may be, he feels at ease so long the presence of the moon coexists with his.

That night, he feels the warmth of it breaking pass the glass windows. The lights in his room were all off, but, just like some magical fairy dust, those kind rays light the place up until a romantic, dimly lit atmosphere reigns. Suddenly everything becomes monochromatic for him. His hands, the furniture surrounding him, the curtains—all the colors draining into an invisible sink somewhere in the room.

Everything becomes monochromatic, black and white and black, except for Yamaguchi.

The moonlight illuminates his figure. Tsukishima stands there frozen, holding him and spellbound by a kind of charm that stops him from even breathing. He closes his eyes, slowly and tries to inhale the moment. Yamaguchi looks beautiful. His eyes don’t sparkle, or his cheeks warm and his mouth isn’t the shape of Cupid’s bow—but he’s still beautiful. He looks like Yamaguchi, feels like him, and that’s enough.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi speaks. His voice is soft and warm, in a tone of melody that Tsukishima doesn’t know he has. He can only nod slowly. It’s a breathtaking moment, so much that he is almost sure that it never happens in reality; only in vacuum, in an alternate universe, in a dream.

He grabs his face. He lands his hand on his cheek, four of his fingers staying stationary while his thumb, in the easiest, most ethereal movement, caresses his skin. Tsukishima’s digits creep in further and takes an adventure around the stray hair above Yamaguchi’s ear. He rubs a strand between his index and thumb. It feels like hair. Not a handful of diamonds or cotton—just normal hair. But it feels different for Tsukishima.

It’s unfathomable.

Tsukishima leans down. His lips reach his jaw, ghosting there for a while before sliding onto Yamaguchi’s jugular and kissing him there.

It creates a burst of strong feelings in his chest, and he’s spinning and falling into madness; except it’s pleasant and intense and he doesn’t want it to end. Kissing him is like tasting hope between his lips, hope that everything is going to be all right, that they’re together and one in soul, that the seemingly endless minute will live up to its name.

When he pulls away, he can feel tingles. They are like shocks, as if his lips were made of barbed wires infused with electricity. It drives his thoughts haphazard.

And he wants more. More, more, more.

“Yamaguchi.”

He pushes the words out from his throat. It comes out croaky and forced, but either way, it sounds like a zealous prayer. That name. He wishes he could repeat it over and over again until his tongue gives in.

“Hm?”

His heart misses a single, precious beat.

Tsukishima doesn’t reply; at least not with words. He presses their foreheads together, guides Yamaguchi’s hands so that they circle around his neck, and his own around his waist. Then, he moves.

Left, to right, to left, leading Yamaguchi with his ragged yet effortless movements. It’s as if a god of love is maneuvering them right now, like string puppets operated by a talented puppeteer.

The dimness of the space births a melancholic ambience, and Tsukishima can’t help but digs the insides of his mind, deep until the very back, the usually untouched part, with the tint of sanity left that keeps him standing on Earth.

Something unexpected happens. Yamaguchi stands on his tips, bringing his face closer to Tsukishima—a sudden act that stimulates his reflex and makes him flinch. He loses his entire senses when he realizes that Yamaguchi is kissing him. Yamaguchi’s lips feel unbearably comfortable locking with his.

 “Tsukki? Are you all right?”

“Mhm. Shall we continue?”

Up there, the moon watches solemnly as love unfolds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for being here! Let me know what you think!


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